


Wildest Dreams

by Scavengersdaughter2



Series: Birthday Songfic Playlist [4]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe no werewolves, Anal Sex, Attempted Sexual Assault, Based on a Taylor Swift Song, Blow Jobs, Clubbing, Derek is an Actor, Derek is an idiot, Drinking, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Public Hand Jobs, Songfic, Stiles is in college, They were childhood friends, just go with it, sex friends - Freeform, so they're the same age
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-09
Updated: 2016-03-09
Packaged: 2018-05-24 08:45:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,447
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6148063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scavengersdaughter2/pseuds/Scavengersdaughter2
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles is pretty OK with being a famous actor's booty call.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wildest Dreams

"He's so hot." Erica sighed. 

Stiles looked to the open magazine in front of her. On a two page spread was her favorite actor/model/god among men.  

" _Hollywood's newest bad boy talent: Derek Hale,_ " he read aloud. "Too bad he's an asshole," he said dismissively, looking back to his phone. 

"Just because you used to know him when you were kids, doesn't mean he's the same. People change," she argued. 

"That level of douchery doesn't just go away after puberty." 

 

They’d been friends, once upon a time. Well, he used the term ‘friends’ loosely. It was more him trying to befriend the very serious looking eight year old Derek and the other being a total dick about it. 

They had an unusual relationship but it worked. They had a sort of uneasy alliance that carried over until they were eleven. 

Then the fire happened and Derek had moved somewhere with his older sister. Then became an actor. Which was pretty cool, Stiles admitted. He was still a dick though ( _but oh such a good looking dick. Pun totally intended_ ). 

 

"I just want to sit on his face," she touched the magazine. 

 _You don't have the right parts for Mr. Two Hundred Pound Bag-of-Dicks._  

 

That's right. 

Derek Hale was gay. 

They were each other’s first kiss. It was one of those kid moments. When they were ten in Derek’s massive basement, he’d leaned in and said something along the lines of ‘I like you’, and then Stiles had gotten red and leaned in and kissed him. Looking back it was weird and awkward. Then afterwards they’d pretended it never happened. Which kind of broke little-Stiles’ heart because surprise surprise, he liked men too.  

They hadn't talked in years. But Stiles had never forgotten his first crush. 

　 

 

"Really?" 

"Yes. It's the after-premiere party for his new show. You know the spin off from that eighties werewolf movie or whatever?" 

Stiles nodded. He was familiar. "And you want to go. To, what? Find him and make him fall in love with you?" 

She rolled her eyes. "Love is overrated. I just want to jump his bones." 

"But you're with Boyd?" 

"Derek Hale is my one free pass." 

"You're unbelievable." 

"I'm unbelievable and you're coming with me." 

"I don't want to." 

"Stiles, this is superrrr important to me. I know a guy who works there and he's letting me in. It's the only venue with such low security." She flipped her blonde curls over her shoulder. "And maybe you'll get laid there too?" 

"Thanks but I'm fine." 

She actually stomped. "I need a wing man." 

"Erica." 

"Stiles," she replied evenly. 

He shook his head, knowing he'd come to regret it. "Fine, but you're buying me drinks." 

She grabbed his hand. "This will be amazing!" 

He doubted it. 

　 

 

It was exactly what Stiles thought it would be like. Two seconds into entering the club, Erica said she’d go get drinks. 

Then he didn’t see her for the rest of the night. 

So he got his own damn drink and found someone mildly appealing to dance with. 

Things got a little weird after that. 

The guy, who said his name was Matt or John or something, invited him to back to his apartment. Naturally Stiles refused. 

The guy walked off all pissy. And that was the end, right? That’s what Stiles thought. 

But then when he was walking to the bathroom after an hour, there was MattJohn. 

It was a little scary. 

"Where are you going?" He asked, looming over Stiles. Crowding his space. 

It was loud in the club. The bathrooms were out of the way. 

No one was around. 

Bad. Very Bad. 

"Away from you," Stiles said, because there was that disconnect between his brain and mouth. He tried to brush past, but then MattJohn caught him by the shoulder, slamming him into the wall. 

"Get off-"  

Hands were tearing at his clothes and Stiles was trying to scratch and bite and _just get him the fuck off_ but the other male was stronger and bigger. A hand was sliding in his pants and- 

Then there was a fist coming out of nowhere. MattJohn fell to the ground. The guy kicked him in the head and he stopped moving. 

Stiles was shaking. He tried to fix his clothes. "Thanks, dude-" 

His savior was looking at him and oh fuck. 

"Stiles?" 

"Derek?" The actor, childhood douchebag/crush. "It's been awhile." He swallowed. 

Derek looked down at the unconscious man. "Are you- OK?" 

Stiles’ heart was still pounding against his ribs. "Yeah. You came before anything happened." 

Derek nodded. "Good." 

He licked his lips. Derek's eyes followed the motion. Stiles thought it appropriate to ask: "Well, can I buy you a drink or something? As a thank you?" 

"You could do something else for me." 

Stiles eyed him warily. "What?" 

"Help me get out of here." 

　 

There was a staff door Stiles snuck them through. He texted Erica that he was abandoning her. She texted back that she’d abandoned him hours ago. 

The two males were walking to their respective destinations, which just happened to be in the same direction. 

"Still as anti social as ever." 

"I told my agent to stop sending me to these things. They’re…" 

"Exhausting?" 

He looked over at Stiles. "Yeah. But tonight wasn’t a complete disaster." 

"Really? Why?" 

Derek stopped walking. "Because I got to see you again. And punch someone. It’s been awhile since I’ve hit someone who deserved it." 

Someone approached them. The two stood closer to let them pass. 

They didn’t separate after that. 

He was hyper sensitive to Derek’s nearness. Perhaps they were closer than what was entirely appropriate. 

They continued catching up, falling into the same easy banter from when they were kids.  

His breath was hot. He smelled like booze and leather. 

Stiles' throat was dry. He felt thirsty. 

It was just a peck. Really, it was. 

 But it turned into Derek pushing him into a dark doorway and then Stiles' fingers were in his hair.  

All heavy breathing and frantic touching. 

Derek's parted mouth sucked a spot on his neck. 

Stiles was running his hands over his firm ass, his sides, his abs. He scratched lines down his back.  

And then it was over.  

Derek pulled away. Anger in his face. "Fuck." 

"What's wr-" 

"I can't do this." 

"Do what?" 

Derek turned around, hands scrubbing through his hair. " _This._ With you- not just you but..." 

"You can't let anyone know you're g-" 

"Don't, Stiles," he turned to face him. Fear in his eyes. "Don't say it." 

Stiles put his hands up. "OK." 

Derek swallowed. "It's not you." 

"Yeah, I know." He nodded slightly. "I get it." 

He looked around patting his pockets awkwardly. "I still-fuck. I still want to but-" 

"I can keep a secret." Stiles stepped towards him. "No one has to know what we do." 

Derek's pupils were blown wide. He was considering. "This has to stay between us." 

"I know that." 

Derek's Adams apple bobbed as he swallowed. "Do you want to- come back with me? To my hotel?" His voice was already a familiar sound. 

"Fuck yes." 

 

And that was the story of how he became a famous actor’s casual hook up. 

　 

He had a text from Derek at midnight a week later. 

         Just got done. I'll be over in twenty. 

Stiles took a breath. _Heaven can't help me now._  

This, what they had, wouldn't last forever. 

But he already knew what they had would take him down. _This_ is what would bring about his end. 

He didn't even care how Derek and he interacted. How Derek was borderline embarrassed, no- 

ashamed, every time he showed up at Stiles' door or when they met up somewhere. 

　 

Derek jerked on Stiles’ zipper, forcing his pants open and down.  

The actor's hand was inside his underwear, gripping his cock.  

Stiles' pants were joined by his underwear in a pool around his ankles. He braced a hand against the actor's chest while he stepped out of the garments. 

Derek pushed him against the wall. Stiles wrapped his legs around his waist. He trailed his hand down the curve of Stiles' ass.  

Derek jerked on his own pants, opening them just enough to free his cock.  

When he ran his thumb over Stiles’ hole, he was already prepared and wet with lube. Derek fucked two fingers knuckle deep into him. Stiles gasped in stunned pleasure.  

Derek guided the head of his cock into his hole, dragging the head around his rim, spreading the lube.  

He thrusted forward, slamming his hips and fucking balls deep into him.  

Stiles pressed into him, meeting his hard thrusts. He wiggled, trying to get Derek deeper.  

Stiles latched onto him, digging his nails into the leather of Derek’s jacket. He moaned when Derek thrust back into him.  

Derek slammed into him then paused, groaning in his chest. He swiveled his hips and dragged against the rim of Stiles’ swollen hole.  

He pressed into Stiles as deep as he could go.  

Derek jerked his hips erratically, dragging his cock against the spot that made Stiles twitch and clench around him. Stiles was panting, feeling Derek come inside of him. 

He tugged on Stiles’ cock and he was coming, shooting up both of their chests, his ass clenching even more around Derek's softening cock. 

　 

"What if I told you I was Derek Hale's booty call?" 

Erica's eyes skimmed the notes between them. Without looking up, she replied, "I'd say 'why the fuck didn't you tell me? I called dibs’. But first I think I'd be like 'stop joking, you're delusional'." When he didn't reply, she looked up. "You're joking, right?" 

"Ehh..." 

"You're not joking." 

"Erica-" 

"Derek-fucking-Hale?" 

He put his hand on his forehead. "Yeah." 

"I feel so betrayed right now." 

"I'm sorry. But it's kind of a rule I can't tell anyone." His tone had another meaning: _And I'm breaking that rule just to tell you right now._  

She crossed her arms. "So he's gay? Not pan or bi or anything?" 

"Pretty sure he's all the way up the Kinsey scale. But any talk about sexuality is off limits big time." 

"Whoa. Derek Hale has internalized homophobia? And he's like, fucking you in secret. Is that healthy?" 

Stiles shrugged. "Probably." 

"Well, damn. Now I need a different cheat pass." 

　 

 

"Are you sure it’s OK…taking the subway? You know there are people." 

Derek kept his hood up, sunglasses on even though it was dark. "I’m not worried. It's not as busy riding this time of night." 

There were four other people in the car with them. An elderly couple, as well as two women who had earbuds in. 

Stiles and Derek sat down, their backs to the other passengers. 

The actor placed one hand on his knee. Stiles looked over in confusion but Derek kept his focus in front of them. 

He moved closer to Stiles’ zipper. Petting touches trailing up and down his thigh. 

Derek continued staring forward, as if nothing was happening. 

"Derek…" 

He leaned closer to Stiles, whispering: "Be quiet," soft enough for no one else to hear. 

He tilted his head back slightly as Derek put a hand between his legs, caressing his groin with a touch firm enough to feel _pretty freaking amazing_. 

He unzipped Stiles’ fly, sticking one hand in his underwear. 

Stiles tried to catch Derek’s hand before things went any further, but the actor just squeezed his rapidly growing erection even tighter. "Hands off."  

Stiles’ breath caught in his throat. 

Derek’s other hand rested on his own thigh, clenching every time a silent moan escaped Stiles’ mouth. 

Stiles closed his eyes, trying not to buck into Derek’s fist. 

He couldn’t wait to get back to his apartment. 

　 

 

His dad came to visit the next week. He’d been staying there for two days. 

"Son, is this yours?" John asked, holding up a green Henley that was about three sizes too big. He threw a thumb behind him, "I found it tucked under the couch." 

Stiles turned to his dad, eyes going wide. "Oh, that's- I ordered it online. Must've slipped out when I was doing laundry. Oops." He casually grabbed it from his father. 

John gave him a look but said nothing. 

"I'm just going to-um, put this away," Stiles offered, heading to his room. 

He closed his bedroom door, sagging against it. He held up the shirt. 

Derek must've left it. He pulled it against his chest. 

　 

 

"Let's get out of town." 

Stiles found the head hole in his shirt. He stuck his face through it; saying: "OK...?" 

"We can drive out of the city. Away from the crowds," he said, staring forward. 

"Where do you want to go?" 

 

Derek didn't call it a date. 

Stiles knew it was a date. 

 

Stiles stepped into the restaurant. He was wearing a white button down with dark, tight jeans. 

Derek’s mouth watered. 

 

Stiles' face lit up when he saw him.  

"Why is there no one else here?" He sat in the seat across from Derek. 

"I know the owner." 

 

They danced around each other. Banter was safe. Sex was safe. 

Everything else in between was something of a mystery. Every conversation, not within the 'safe' confines, was fraught with danger. If either revealed too much, what they had would be ruined. 

 

So they stuck with 'safe'. 

 

Their evening ended at Stiles' apartment building. 

"I want to show you something." He took Derek's hand and headed for the stairs. 

"Where are we going exactly?" 

"Just follow along." 

Stiles’ hand was warm. 

 

"The roof? Are you allowed up here?" 

Stiles shrugged. "Not exactly. But the view is pretty awesome so I do it anyway." 

He was right; the sunset was beautiful. 

The bright, cotton-candy pink reflected in Stiles' wide eyes. 

The cold wind chafed his cheeks. The blush stood out on his pale skin. It was a rosy hue.  

His lips were red. 

Derek had been wondering. Why were they so red? 

 

"Why did you take me out tonight?" He asked, staring at the sky. 

Derek resisted the urge to fidget. "I wanted to thank you. For staying quiet." 

"Well now I feel like a prostitute." 

Derek side eyed him. "You’re not a very good prostitute if you accept food as payment." 

Stiles laughed, hiding the disappointment he felt. 

 

Derek' couldn't help staring between the sunset and the face of his companion. Each as beautiful as the other. 

"Stiles, I l-" he stopped. 

"Yeah?" He looked almost expectant. 

"Nothing. I'll see you later." He kissed Stiles one last time. He left through the roof's door, leaving the other standing there in the fading light. 

He touched his lips, the ghost of Derek falling away. He looked back at the skyline. 

 _I hope you always remember this. Me. Just like this._ It was his silent, last request from Derek. 

Because he wasn't an idiot. 

He knew the difference between a good night kiss and a goodbye kiss. 

　 

Derek leaned against the shower wall. 

He'd almost said 'I love you'. 

And he was scared. Because it was true. 

 

Derek didn't see him for two months after that. 

　 

 

"CUT!" The director yelled. It was the fifth take in a row. 

It hadn't been a good day for filming. 

"Come on, Derek. You're not with it today! It's just one take. A couple of lines." 

His co-star Jennifer Blake, an up and coming actress, looked restless.  

"I'm just...distracted." 

It should've been a simple scene. Tragic anti-hero confesses his love to the English teacher he'd been kind of 'dating' (who later becomes an ugly-witch-monster but that was beside the point). He'd picture Stiles face that last time and get this itchy feeling. Like guilt, maybe. 

"Well you better find a way to get un-distracted." Something must've been showing on Derek's face because he then continued with: "You know what? Take the rest of the day off. We don't shoot tomorrow or the day after, so that should give you time to work through whatever." 

Derek nodded. Usually he was better at guarding his emotions. 

He grabbed his bag and walked off set. It must've been because of Stiles.  

He was throwing the world off its axis. 

 

He'd had the intention of just leaving him, let whatever they had fade away. 

But- 

The memories they made together were following him around. Like a half forgotten dream. Half recalled details and impressions. Fleeting images and feelings, always just out of his grasp. 

If they were ever to have a relationship, a _real_ relationship, it'd still have to be a secret. Something of shame to hide, for the sake of his career. He'd be ruined if he was outed. 

Better to let it end, then. 

He wanted to burn it down. Leave him behind. Forget. 

He couldn't. 

Because those images he had of Stiles, their memories of being tangled with each other all night- Those were impossible to forget. 

Derek loved him. 

　 

 

Stiles opened the door. Stared for a handful of seconds before saying: "Seriously? Go fuck yourself." 

"Stiles-" 

"No, you don’t get to give me radio silence for _eight freaking weeks_ and then show up for a fuck." 

Derek shuffled on his feet. Stiles was the only person who made him feel so _nervous_. "I'm not here for that." 

Stiles squinted, arms remaining crossed. He leaned against the door frame, body language saying Derek wasn’t invited in. Not yet. "Then I am very confused." 

"I don't _only_ show up for sex." 

Stiles gave him a look. "Why are you here then?" 

"I've been thinking-" he took a breath, "- about us." 

" _Us_?" Stiles uncrossed his arms. "You made it clear there is no 'us'." 

"Well, I've been re-thinking that." 

Stiles scratched the back of his head. "I need something to drink if we’re going to have this talk." Derek followed him in. 

Stiles went to the kitchen. When he got back, he handed Derek a beer. 

The man felt like a teenager confessing to a crush. Stiles listened to him in silence, drinking his beer. 

"I- you get why though, right? Why what we have is dangerous?" Derek asked. 

He nodded. "Hollywood is unforgiving. Even with all the advancements in the last decade, there is still discrimination against those who are openly gay in the film industry." 

"Exactly. And I thought, in the beginning, just sex would be enough. But then I started to feel things." 

"-And you got scared of your feelings and bailed. Like the closeted emotional train wreck you are." 

"This is actually hard for me to do," he said defensively. 

"Derek, I'm not talking about the closet thing. I can't be mad at you for that. I'm mad because you started liking me and then left. Now you're back here, acting like I don't get what's at stake if you're outed. I do. And that's not what _I_ have an issue with." He put his elbows to each corresponding knee. "You were gone for two months because you were brooding and dealing with your man pain, ' _I'm so alone_ ' bullshit." 

"I'm- sorry...?" 

"It's just like when we were kids. You only think about what's hurting _you_. What's causing _you_ discomfort or whatever. So you react accordingly; doing what feels better for you. Which is usually avoiding. You're so caught up in what _you're_ feeling, you don't stop to consider how everyone else is feeling." He rubbed his knees. "You didn't stop to consider how _I_ felt." 

Derek's jaw tensed. "You like me? Not just for sex?" 

" _Duh_." Stiles rolled his eyes. "But what if I told you I went and got a boyfriend while you were angsting?" 

Derek deflated. "Really?" 

"No. But I could've. And then this little visit would have been pointless."  

A weight was lifted from the actor's shoulders. 

Stiles stood up, only to sit next to Derek on the couch. "So are we really going to do this? Be in a relationship." 

"If you want to." 

Stiles pinched his elbow. "Of course I do." They both stared forward. "Even in my wildest dreams, I never thought I’d end up with you," he said absently. 

Derek nuzzled his cheek. "Well I’ve been fantasizing about you since I was ten." 

Stiles stared at him. "So you _do_ remember that!" 

"Of course. It was my first kiss." 

Stiles swatted him. The actor had said he didn't have a very good recollection of his childhood. _Lies!_ "You’re an asshole." 

"That’s why you love me." 

He kissed him. "I do." 

Derek swallowed. "We better move this to the bedroom." 

"Why?" 

Derek put a hand down the back of his pants. "Well if you want to do it on the floor that’s fine…" 

Stiles laughed and kissed him again.  

 


End file.
